


I Wouldn't Change A Thing

by JJ1564



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Brothers, Chick-Flick Moments, Declarations Of Love, Drunk Sam, First Kiss, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ1564/pseuds/JJ1564
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets drunk and decides it's the perfect time to tell Dean how he really feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wouldn't Change A Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: This is my seventh fic for fandomhits on LJ, based on Spin by Lifehouse - lyrics vid here...https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-E7j-mRz07w
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, but they own, and frequently break, my heart!
> 
> A/N: Thanks to my Obi milly_gal for the read-through and for always encouraging me.

Sam has always loved Dean, of course he has. He has always looked up to him; he’s always needed his support, his approval and his unconditional love. Leaving Dean to go to Stanford was the hardest thing he had ever done; leaving Stanford to look for their dad with Dean was the second hardest.

He had adapted to ‘normal’ life so well; he had great friends, a decent home for the first time since he was a baby, and a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful girlfriend. No one needed to know about the salt he discreetly laid at the doors and windows, or that he kept a small cache of weapons in his duffle bag, buried deep in the closet. And Jessica didn’t need to know that sometimes Sam wished it was Dean’s hard, beautiful body writhing beneath him, not her soft, pretty one.

He thought he had left hunting behind him, he thought he could escape his past and be Mr Regular. He thought he could bury his feelings for Dean, too. How could he have been so stupid? He was never going to be free of his past, it was always going to haunt him and then come back to bite him in the ass. Seeing Jess burning up on their bedroom ceiling had been the stuff of nightmares. If Dean hadn’t come back and pulled him out of the burning room, Sam thinks he would’ve stayed there - paralyzed with shock, too stunned to move. He would’ve died with Jess, and in the first awful days after her death he wished he had died.

Dean would never let him, of course he wouldn’t. Dean was his rock, the only reason he stayed relatively sane and kept breathing. And he’d never tell Dean how bad he felt, how much he wanted to leave all the pain and loss behind. It was bad enough that Dean had to witness his nightmares.

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice pulled him away from his morbid thoughts. “You awake?”

“Yeah,” Sam rubbed his eyes.

“We’re nearly there, but it’s getting late, so keep your eyes peeled for a decent motel.” 

“Sure,” Sam replied, scanning the roadside ahead, wondering if there was such a thing as a ‘decent’ motel.

Dean spotted the sign before he did, and pulled into the parking lot of the “Motown Motel”.

“Yahtzee,” Dean grinned when he saw the bar adjacent to the motel.

Sam didn’t want a drink, but he was hungry and hoped the bar was serving food.

The motel was surprisingly decent, clean and well-kept; the rooms had a Motown theme with old records decorating the walls, and a sixties feel to the furnishings. Once they had unpacked, showered and changed, they headed for the bar.

Dean’s face lit up when he saw the menu on the counter, and that they served food from 10am to 10pm, seven days a week. They found a table and ordered the house-special burger with fries and onion rings for Dean and a chicken salad for Sam, with a side of fries too.

Dean ate his food like a starving man, but Sam wasn’t far behind. They had been on the road for hours, only stopping to get gas and use the facilities. They hardly spoke as they ate, but Dean moaned in appreciation as he bit into the burger, and waxed lyrical about the beef, the chicken, the bacon and the cheese that made up the house special. Sam was amazed that Dean could fit it all into his mouth and stared for too long, but Dean was in burger-heaven and didn’t notice.

When the finished eating, Dean rubbed his belly and declared he was too full to even look at the dessert menu.

Sam grinned and teased him, “Not even if they’ve got pie?”

“You’re fucking evil,” Dean groaned, trying hard not avoid the lure of the dessert menu.

“I’m gonna order a coffee and then hit the hay,” Sam yawned, not feeling tired but needing an excuse to leave his brother in the bar.

“You’re kidding, right?” Dean looked as annoyed as Sam thought he would. “C’mon Sammy, let down your hair for once and enjoy life.”

“I can enjoy life without getting drunk in some roadside bar,” Sam retorted.

“Sure you can, but I’d enjoy getting drunk more with you for company,” Dean looked at him, his big green eyes pleading for Sam to stay with him. Jess used to tell Sam to ‘quit the puppy-dog eyes’ whenever he tried this trick on her, and he knew Dean was even better at it than he was.

“Okay, but I’m sticking to beer, no shots. Understood?” Sam declared.

“Understood, Sammy.” Dean conceded.

Three hours and several shots each later, Dean was holding Sam up as they stumbled from the bar to their motel room. Sam couldn’t work out why the world was spinning so fast, or why Dean’s laughter seemed to be coming from a long way off.

“You’re such a lightweight, Samantha,” Dean teased as he fumbled in his pocket for the motel key.

“S’your fault makin’ me drink shots, asshole,” Sam retorted, pleasantly surprised to still be able to string a sentence together.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a bad brother,” Dean closed the door behind them.

Sam grabbed Dean by his elbows and pushed him up against the door. “Don’t ever say that, you’re the best…the fuckin’ best brother…best…” Sam’s declaration was curtailed by the fact that he could see two sets of wide green eyes, and more urgently, he really needed to puke. Luckily the bathroom was only a few steps away and he made to the toilet, just in time.

“That’s it, better out than in,” Dean was kneeling next to him, rubbing Sam’s back.

Sam actually felt better afterwards, which was a relief. The world was no longer spinning for a start. But he had things to tell Dean, important things. Dean had left while he brushed his teeth and freshened up, and when Sam joined him in the small kitchen area, he held out a glass of water.

“Hydrate, Sammy,” Dean sat down, glass of whisky already in his hand.

“You should, too,” Sam sat opposite him, scowling.

“Dude, I don’t drink water,” Dean looked affronted, like Sam had insulted him.

“Yes, you do,” Sam tried not to laugh.

“Okay, but not after sundown.” Dean retorted.

Sam knew it was pointless trying to reason with Dean any further, so he moved on to tackle the huge elephant that was crowding the small room.

“Dean, I meant what I said, right before I puked.” Sam began, thinking that perhaps that wasn’t the most romantic way t  
to start off. “Don’t ever say you’re a bad brother.”

“Sure, Sammy, I won’t,” Dean reassured him but Sam knew he was just trying to shut him up, anything to avoid the possibility of talking about feelings and shit like that.

“I’m not done,” Sam retorted, “I need you to listen to me, please, Dean,”

“I guess I don’t have a choice…” Dean shrugged.

“Nope,” Sam smiled at him. “I have to tell you that you’re the best brother, the best man I know. You’re brave, irritating, reckless, funny, caring and…and sexy too.” Dean raised his eyebrows at that but Sam was on a roll now. “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t in my life. There’s no one else for me, Dean. I love you, love you so much…”

“You’re drunk, Sammy,” Dean interrupted, “an’ you’re forgetting the no click flicks moment policy,”

“I’m not saying this ‘cause I’m drunk, well, perhaps it helps a little…” Sam sighed, staring at Dean, who was looking right back at him. Sam wasn’t sure if Dean’s expression was fear, anger, lust or just pure panic. “Dean, I love you. And not just as a brother, I’m…I’m in love with you, fuck, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you, I mean, I know I just puked a few minutes ago.”

“Sammy, don’t, you don’t know what you’re saying,” Dean stood up and started pacing. “You’re still grieving, you’re drunk, you…”  
Sam stood up and grabbed Dean, turning him to face him. “Stop making excuses for me, stop pretending you don’t feel the same,” 

Dean’s face paled, and his green eyes grew larger, but Sam didn’t give him a chance to respond. “The last few months have been so fucking hard, sometimes I felt the world was spinning out of control, that I was barely clinging on. Everything changed, my life was turned upside down. I lost Jess, I lost my chance at normal, I lost my future…but with all I lost I found something so precious, so special.”

“Sammy, stop; don’t go there,” Dean tried to pull away from Sam’s grip on his arms but Sam held on tighter.

“I found you, Dean;” Sam wished he could be more eloquent, perhaps he was still a bit drunk; “I mean, I stopped running away from how I felt about you. You’re the only thing that makes sense in my life, the only thing that gives my life meaning. I wouldn’t change anything right now, not one single thing. I’m with you, it’s where I want to be.”

Dean blinked, revealing tears on his ridiculously long eyelashes. “Sam, I…I can’t…”

“Can’t what, Dean? Can’t let yourself love me, like I love you?” Sam was pleading now.

“You know how I feel about you, Sammy!” Dean shouted, as he managed to pull away from Sam. “You’re my little brother; hell, I practically raised you. Apart from Dad, you’re the only person I care about, the only one I love and I’d give my life for you in an instant.”

“I know you would, I’d do the same for you.” Sam approached Dean cautiously, not knowing whether Dean was going to punch him or make for the door. “And I love you, Dean, not just because you’re my big brother. I love you as a person, the only one I want in my life.”

Dean’s anger subsided and he sighed. Sam took the opportunity to push Dean back against the wall and hold Dean’s wrists tight while he kissed him. Sam expected Dean to pull away, to protest or to head-butt him, but instead Dean let Sam kiss him, their lips meeting, softly at first, both of them getting used to the feel of their lips together. Soon they were exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues, the taste of Dean’s whisky blending with the taste of Sam’s toothpaste.

Dean pulled away, panting, and Sam had never seen such a beautiful sight. Dean’s lips were swollen, redder than usual; he was blushing and his eyes were sparkling with tears. But he was smiling.

Sam didn’t push Dean any further, they both collapsed onto their own beds to sleep – or to lay awake thinking. Sam was amazed that he had actually fallen asleep eventually, and woke up to the sound of the shower running. Dean was wearing his ‘business as usual’ face as he emerged from the bathroom.

“Up and at ‘em, Sammy,” he said, far too jovially.

“We’re not forgetting what happened last night,” Sam replied.

“You were drunk, we both were.” Dean sighed, eyes downcast, “It’s all water under the bridge,”

“Dean, look at me.” Sam sat up to face Dean; “I remember everything I said, everything we did. It wasn’t some drunken mistake. I love you.”

“Sammy, you don’t know what you’re saying,” Dean remonstrated, “you should go back to college, grab that chance of normal, find someone to settle down with,”

“I don’t want any of that Dean, not anymore.” Sam got up and took dean’s hands in his. “It’s you, only you, for me and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“So all that you said last night, you really meant it?” Dean asked, wide-eyed, hopeful.

“Of course I did,” Sam smiled at him.

“Fuck, this is all kinds of weird,” Dean shook his head, perplexed, “but I guess it’s a good weird.”

“If it’s good weird, we can work on it.” Sam stroked Dean’s hands with his thumbs.

“Okay, Sammy. And y’know, there’s nothing I’d change either… well, except for your hair. Just give me ten minutes with some clippers…”


End file.
